


take your hand and come and find me.

by riskbreakered



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7758121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riskbreakered/pseuds/riskbreakered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside guilt and loss, there's hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take your hand and come and find me.

His sleeping habits are infamous in the palace, and this late in the evening, there is no guess among the scattered line of silent guards whether Ander is coming or going from his quarters. It matters little. He won’t see sleep for some time; instead, there is a half-finished bottle in his jacket, and many hours until morning light filters through these familiar halls. 

Memories chase at him, but it is the sound of a young woman's hurried footsteps that turns his head. Ander looks down with bright eyes as Amberle takes his arm. She doesn’t bother to question her uncle’s habits; she always has her own secrets to keep, after all.

And he smiles, and he is only too happy to share them with her.

She looks over her shoulder before dragging him into an alcove.

He smiles. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I have a plan for how I’ll win the race,” she says, with that tone of boldness that strikes familiar, “and I need your help.”

It’s all she needs to say for him to agree.

He feels so much like her father at times; but he wonders too, if his late brother would indulge her this much. They sneak into the stables, take their horses into to the woods. By dim lamplight they spread a map of the test course over the dewy grass and plot out where they need to start. 

Racing through the trees, Ander keeps just behind Amberle, making certain he’s always there when she falls.

* * *

The King touches his hand to the Ellcrys. The tree is restored, vibrant now as ever before. By the words of the druid he understands his niece to be there, somewhere. A bargain struck for peace; a heavy sacrifice not easily made.

Somewhere around the tangled knots of sorrow in his chest, there is pride.


End file.
